The Anthroposophic Movement

Schmidt Number: S-5315

On-line since: 19th August, 2008

LECTURE SIX

The Emergence of the Anthroposophic Movement

Dornach, 15 June 1923

I have given you some idea of the forces which determined the
first two periods of the anthroposophical movement. But in order to
create a basis on which to deal with what happened in the third
stage, I still wish to deal with a number of phenomena from the first
two.

The first period, up until approximately 1907, can be described as
being concerned with developing the fundamentals for a science of the
spirit in lectures, lecture cycles and in subsequent work undertaken
by others. This period concludes approximately with the publication of my
Occult Science.
[ Note 1 ]

Occult Science
actually appeared in print some one and a half years later, but the
publicizing of its essential content undoubtedly falls into this
first period. Some hope was definitely justified in this period, up
to 1905 or 1906, that the content of anthroposophy might become the
purpose of the Theosophical Society's existence.

During this time it would have been an illusion not to recognize
that leading personalities in the Theosophical Society, and Annie
Besant in particular, had a very primitive understanding of modern
scientific method. Nevertheless, despite the amateurish stamp which
this gave to all her books, there was a certain sum of wisdom, mostly
unprocessed, in the people who belonged to the Society. This became
more marked as the focus of the Theosophical Society gradually moved
to London and slowly began to feed, in a manner of speaking, on
oriental wisdom. It sometimes led to the most peculiar ideas. But if
we ignore the fact that such ideas were sometimes stretched so far
that they lost all similarity to their original and true meaning,
such books as Annie Besant's
Ancient Wisdom,
The Progress of Mankind,
and even
Christianity
transmit something which, although passed down by traditional means,
originated in ancient sources of wisdom.

On the other hand one must always be aware that in the modern
world beyond these circles there was no interest whatsoever in real
spiritual research. The reality was simply that the possibility of
kindling an interest in a truly modern science of the spirit existed
only among those who found their way into this group of people.

Yet within this first period in particular there was a great deal
to overcome. Many people were working towards something, but it was
in part a very egoistic and shallow striving. But even such
superficial societies frequently called themselves theosophical. One
need only think, for instance, of the theosophical branches spread
widely throughout central Europe — in Germany, Austria and also
Switzerland — which possessed only an exceedingly anaemic
version of Theosophical Society tenets, impregnated with all kinds of
foolish occult views.

One person who was very active in such societies was Franz Hartmann.
[ Note 2 ]
But the kind of profound spirit and deep
seriousness which existed in these shallow societies will become
obvious to you if I describe the cynical character of this particular
leader. The Theosophical Society was at one time engaged in a dispute
in connection with an American called Judge
[ Note 3 ]
about whether or not certain messages which had been distributed by
Judge originated with persons who really had reached a higher stage
of initiation, the so-called Masters. Judge had distributed these
“Mahatma Letters” in America.

While they were both at the headquarters in India, Judge said he
wanted some letters from the Masters in order to gain credibility in
America, so that he could say he had been given a mission by
initiates. Franz Harmann recounted how he had offered to write some
Mahatma Letters for Judge, and the latter had replied that this would
not permit him to claim their authenticity. They were supposed to fly
towards you through the air; they originated in a magical way and
then landed on your head, and that is what he had to be able to say.
Judge was a very small fellow, Hartmann told us, and so he said to
him “Stand on the floor and I will stand on a chair and then I
will drop the letters on your head.” Then Judge could say with
a clear conscience that he was distributing letters which had landed
on his head clean out of the air!

That is an extreme example of things which are not at all rare in
the world. I do not really want to waste your time with these shallow
societies. I only want to point out that the close proximity of the
anthroposophical to the theosophical movement made it necessary for
the former to defend itself against modern scientific thinking during
its first period.

I do not know whether those who joined the anthroposophical
movement later as scientists, and observed anthroposophy during its
more developed third stage, have gained sufficient insight into the
fact that a critical assessment of modern scientific thinking took
place in a very specific way during the first period of the
anthroposophical movement. I only give instances, because this
process occurred in a number of different areas. But these examples
will show you how the theosophical movement was strongly influenced
by the deference to so-called scientific authority which I described
as particularly characteristic of modern education.

Annie Besant, for instance, tried to use in her books all kinds of
quotes from contemporary science, such as Weismann's theory of
heredity,
[ Note 4 ]
which bore no relevance to the science of the spirit. She used them as
if they provided some sort of evidence. If you recall, at the time when
we were in a position to start a centre for the anthroposophical
movement in Munich many homeless souls were already organized in the
sense that they belonged to various societies. Of course centres for
the movement had begun to develop gradually in Berlin, Munich,
Stuttgart, Kassel, Dusseldorf, Cologne, Hamburg, Hanover and
Leipzig, and in Vienna as well as in Prague. When we were
establishing the branch in Munich it became necessary to assess
critically the various larger and smaller groups which were then in
existence.

One group called the Ketterl, consisting of extremely scholarly
people, was very much concerned with providing proofs from natural
science for the claims which were made on behalf of the science of
the spirit. If anthroposophy spoke about the etheric body, they would
say that science has recognized this or that structure for atoms and
molecules. Their formulae and definitions and so on were applied not
to processes of the spectrum or electro-magnetism but to processes in
the etheric or astral field. There was nothing we could do about
that. The whole thing dissolved more or less amicably. In the end we
no longer had any links with these investigations.

Not so very different were the efforts of a Dr. Hübbe-Schleiden,
[ Note 5 ]
who played an important role in the Theosophical Society.
He was a close friend of Blavatsky, and was the editor of
Sphinx
for a long time. He, too, was obsessed with proving what he felt was
theosophical subject matter by means of natural-scientific thinking.
He took me to his home, a little way outside Hanover. It was perhaps
half an hour by tram. He spent the entire half-hour describing the
motion of atoms with his index fingers: Yes, it has to happen in this
way and that way and then we have the answer. The atoms move in one
incarnation and then the wave motion continues through the spiritual
worlds; then it changes and that is the next incarnation. In the same
way as modern physicists calculate light in terms of wave lengths, he
calculated the passage of souls through various incarnations.

A special version of this way of thinking was evident in the
debate about the permanent atom, which took place in the Theosophical
Society over a long period. This permanent atom was something awful,
but was taken incredibly seriously. For the people who felt the full
weight of modern science postulated that while of course the physical
body decomposes, a single atom remains, passes through the time
between death and a new birth, and appears in the new incarnation.
That is the permanent atom which passes through incarnations.

This may appear funny to you today, but you simply cannot
understand the seriousness with which these things were pursued,
specifically in the first period, and the difficulty which existed in
responding to the challenge: What is the point of theosophy if it
cannot be proved scientifically! During that conversation in the tram
the point was forcefully made that things have to be presented in a
manner which will allow a matriculated schoolboy to understand
theosophy in the same way that he understands logic. That was the
thrust of my companion's argument. Then we arrived at his home and he
took me into the loft, and up there — I have to repeat that he
was an exceedingly kind, pleasant and intelligent man; in other
words, a sympathetic old gentleman — were very complicated wire
constructions. One of the models would represent the atom of a
physical entity; the next model, which was even more complex, would
represent the atom of something etheric; the third model, still more
complex, was an astral atom.

If you pick up certain books by Leadbeater,
[ Note 6 ]
a leading figure in the Theosophical Society, you will find such models
in grandiose form. Atomism flourished nowhere as greatly as among
those who joined our ranks from the Theosophical Society. And when
younger members such as Dr. Kolisko
[ Note 7 ]
and others are engaged
in the fight against the atom in our research institute in Stuttgart,
[ Note 8 ]
we might well recall that certain people at that time
would not have known how to get from one incarnation to the next
without at least one permanent atom.

That is something of an image of the way in which the strong
authority of so-called natural-scientific thinking exerted its
influence in these circles. They were unable to conceive of any other
valid way of thinking than the natural-scientific one. So there was
no real understanding in this quarter either. Only as the
anthroposophical movement entered its second stage did these
atomistic endeavours gradually subside, and there was a gradual
transition to the subject matter which continued to be cultivated in
the anthroposophical movement. Every time I was in Munich, for
instance, it was possible to give a lecture designed more for the
group which gathered round a great friend of Blavatsky's. Things were
easier there because a genuine inner striving existed.

Within our own ranks, too, there was a call at that time to
justify the content of anthroposophy using the current
natural-scientific approach. It was less radical, nevertheless, than
the demands made by external critics today. A large number of you
heard Dr. Blümel's
[ Note 9 ]
lecture today. Imagine if
someone had responded by saying that everything Dr. Blümel spoke
about was of no personal concern; that he did not believe it, did not
recognize it and did not want to test it. Someone else might say: See
whether it is accurate, examine it with your reason and your soul
faculties. The first person says: It is no business of mine be it
right or wrong, I do not want to become involved with that. But I
call on Dr. Blümel to go to a psychological laboratory and there,
using my psychological methods, I will examine whether or not he is a
mathematician.

That is, of course, piffle of the first order. But it is exactly
the demand made today by outside critics.

Sadly, it is quite possible today to talk pure nonsense that goes
undetected. Even those who are upset by it fail to notice that it is
pure nonsense. They believe that it is only maliciousness or
something similar, because they cannot imagine the possibility of
someone who talks pure nonsense acquiring the role of a scientific
spokesman simply as a result of their social standing. That is the
extent to which our spiritual life has become confused. The kind of
things which I am explaining here must be understood by anyone who
wants to grasp the position of the anthroposophical movement.

Well, undeterred by all that, the most important human truths, the
most important cosmic truths, had to be made public during the first
stage. My
Occult Science
represents a sort of compendium of everything which had been put
forward in the anthroposophical movement until that point. Our
intention was always a concrete and never an abstract one, because we
never attempted to do more than could be achieved in the given
circumstances.

Let me quote the following as evidence. We established a journal,
Luzifer-Gnosis,
[ Note 10 ]
right at the outset of the anthroposophical movement. At first it was called
Luzifer.
Then a Viennese journal called
Gnosis
wanted to amalgamate with it.
My sole intention in calling it Luzifer with Gnosis was to express the
practical union of the two journals. Of course that was completely
unacceptable to Hübbe-Schleiden, for instance, who thought that
this would indicate an unnatural union. Well, I was not particularly
bothered, so we called it
Luzifer-Gnosis
with a hyphen. People were very sharp-witted and they were keeping a
close eye on us at that time!

Of course we started with a very small number of subscribers, but
it began to grow at a very fast pace, relatively speaking, and we
never really ran at a deficit because we only ever printed
approximately as many copies as we were able to sell. Once an issue
had been printed the copies were sent to my house in large parcels.
Then my wife and I put the wrappers around them. I addressed them and
then each of us took a washing basket and carried the whole lot to
the post office. We found that this worked quite well. I wrote and
held lectures while my wife organized the whole Anthroposophical Society,
[ Note 11 ]
but without a secretary. So we did that all on
our own and never attempted more than could be managed on a practical
level. We did not even, for example, take larger washing baskets than
we could just manage. When the number of subscribers grew we simply
made an extra journey.

When we had been engaged in this interesting activity for some time,
Luzifer-Gnosis
ceased publication — not because it had to, for it had many more
subscribers than it needed, but because I no longer had the time to
write. The demands of my lecturing activity and of the spiritual
administration of the society in general began to take up a lot of
time.

To cease publication was a natural consequence of never attempting
more than could be managed on a practical level, one step at a time.
This belongs to the conditions which govern the existence of a
spiritual society. To build far-reaching ideals on phrases, setting
up programmes, is the worst thing which can happen to a spiritual
society. The work in this first period was such that between 1907 and
1909 the foundations of a science of the spirit appropriate to the
modern age were put in place.

Then we come to the second phase, which essentially concluded our
attempt to come to grips with natural science. The theologians had
not yet made their presence felt. They were still seated so firmly in
the saddle everywhere that they were simply not bothered.

When the issue of the natural sciences had been dealt with, we
were able to approach our other task. This was the debate over the
Gospels, over Genesis, the Christian tradition as a whole,
Christianity as such.

The thread had already been laid out in
Christianity As Mystical Fact,
which appeared in 1902. But the elaboration, as it were, of an
anthroposophical understanding of Christianity was essentially the
task of the second stage up to approximately 1914. As a consequence I
gave lecture cycles on the various parts of the Christian tradition
in Hamburg, Kassel, Berlin, Basle, Berne, Munich and Stuttgart.

This period also included what I might call the first expansion of
anthroposophy into the artistic field, with performances of the
mystery dramas in Munich.
[ Note 13 ]
That, too, took place against
the background of never wanting to achieve more than circumstances
allowed.

Also during this time those events occurred which led to the
exclusion of anthroposophy from the Theosophical Society, a fact
which was actually of no great significance to the former, given that
it had followed its own path from the beginning. Those who wanted to
come along were free to do so. From the outset anthroposophy did not
concern itself with the spiritual content which came from the
Theososphical Society. But practical co-existence became increasingly
difficult as well.

At the beginning there was a definite hope that circumstances,
some of which at least I have described, would allow the real
theosophical movement which had come together in the Theosophical
Society to become truly anthroposophical. The circumstances which
made such a hope appear justified included the serious disappointment
about the particular methods of investigation pursued by the
Theosophical Society, specifically among those people who possessed a
higher level of discrimination. And I have to say that when I arrived
in London on both the first and second times, I experienced how its
leaders were basically people who adopted a very sceptical attitude
towards one another, who felt themselves to be on very insecure
ground which, however, they did not want to leave because they did
not know where to look for security.

There were many disappointed people who had great reservations,
particularly among the leaders of the Theosophical Society. The
peculiar change which took place in Annie Besant from, say, 1900 to
1907 is an important factor in the subsequent course of events in the
Theosophical Society. She possessed a certain tolerance to begin
with. I believe she never really understood the phenomenon of
anthroposophy, but she accepted it and at the beginning even
defended against the rigid dogmatists its right to exist. That is how
we must describe it, for that is how it was.

But there is something I must say which I would also urge members
of the Anthroposophical Society to consider very seriously. Certain
personal aspirations, purely personal sympathies and antipathies, are
absolutely irreconcilable with a spiritual society of this kind.
Someone, for instance, begins to idolize someone else, for whatever
underlying reasons within himself. He will not acknowledge whatever
compulsion it is, and sometimes it can be an intellectual compulsion
that drives him to do it. But he begins to weave an artificial astral
aura around the individual whom he wants to idolize. The latter then
becomes advanced. If he wants to make an especially telling remark he
will say: “Oh, that individual is aware of three or four
previous lives on earth and even spoke to me about my earlier earth
lives. That person knows a lot!” And this is precisely what
leads to a spiritual interpretation of something which is human, all
too human, to use an expression of Nietzsche's.

It would be sufficient to say: “I will not deny that I like
him.” Then everything would be fine, even in esoteric
societies. Max Seiling,
[ Note 14 ]
for instance, was very amusing in
certain ways, particularly when he played the piano in that
effervescent way of his, and he was amusing to have tea with and so
on. All would have been well if people had admitted: We like that.
That would have been more sensible than idolizing him in the way the
Munich group did.

You see, all these things are in direct contradiction to the
conditions under which such a society should exist. And the prime
example of someone who fell prey to this kind of thing is Annie
Besant. For example — and I prefer to speak about these things
by quoting facts — a name cropped up on one occasion. I did not
bother much with the literature produced by the Theosophical Society,
and so I became acquainted with Bhagavan Das's
[ Note 15 ]
name only
when a thick typewritten manuscript arrived one day. The manuscript
was arranged in two columns, with text on the left side and a blank
on the right. A covering letter from Bhagavan Das said that he wanted
to discuss with various people the subject matter which he intended
to reveal to the world through the manuscript.

Well, the anthroposophical movement was already so widespread at
that time that I did not manage to read the manuscript immediately.
That Bhagavan Das was a very esoteric man, a person who drew his
inspiration from profound spiritual sources — that was
approximately the view which people associated with Annie Besant
— spread about him. His name was on everyone's lips. So I
decided to have a look at the thing. I was presented with a
horrendously amateurish confusion of Fichtean philosophy, Hegelian
philosophy, and Schopenhauer's philosophy; everything mixed up
together without the slightest understanding. And the whole thing was
held together by “self” and “not self”, like
an endlessly repeated tune. The idolization of Bhagavan Das was based
purely on personal considerations. Such things demonstrate how the
personal element is introduced into impulses which should be
objective. The first step on the slippery slope was taken with the
appearance of this phenomenon, which became increasingly strong from
about 1905 onwards. Everything else was basically a consequence of
that.

Spiritual societies must avoid such courses of action,
particularly by their leaders — otherwise they will, of
necessity, slide down the slippery slope. That is, indeed, what
happened. Then there was the absurd tale connected with Olcott's
death,
[ Note 16 ]
referred to as the Masters' nomination, which
really represented the beginning of the end for the Theosophical
Society. That could still be smoothed over, at least, by saying that
such foolishness was introduced into the Society by particular
people, even if they were acting on the basis of certain principles.
It was, however, followed by the Leadbeater affair,
[ Note 17 ]
the details of which I do not want to discuss just now. And then came the
discovery of the boy who was to be brought up as Christ, or to become
Christ, and so on. And when people who did not want to be involved in
these absurd matters refused to accept them, they were simply
expelled.

Well, the anthroposophical movement followed its set course
throughout the whole of this business and our inner development was
not affected by these events in any way. That has to be made
absolutely clear. It was really a matter of supreme indifference
— just as I was not especially surprised to hear recently that
Leadbeater has become an Old Catholic bishop in his old age. There
was no sense of direction and everything was going topsy turvy.

Indeed, there is no particular need to change one's personal
relationship with these people. Two years ago a gentleman who had
delivered a lecture at the Munich congress in 1907
[ Note 18 ]
approached me with the old cordial spirit. He still looked the same,
but in the meantime he had become an Old Catholic archbishop. He was
not wearing the garments, but that is what he was!

It must not be forgotten that the stream which we have been
describing also contained precisely those souls who were searching
most intensively for a link between the human soul and the spiritual
world. We are not being honest about the course of modern culture if
these contrasts are not made absolutely clear. That is why I had to
make these additional points today before going on to the actual
conditions which underlie the existence of the Anthroposophical
Society.